open: voici un chat dans le café

[untamedantinous]

It is finally spring. Finally warm enough for Enjolras to head outside and read to Temeraire without the extra heavy layer of a coat. He is intent on doing that, in fact, searching for their latest philosophical treatise amongst his piles of papers on his table. He is also searching for his notebook, planning on continuing some writing while he's outside and making a day of it. (Ballpoint pens are very convenient for that.) Enjolras has nearly found it when he is distracted by some shuffling coming from -- of all places, his closet.

After a moment's hesitation, he peers inside the piece of furniture to find two greeny-golden eyes staring back at him. "Oh," he says, with some uncertainty. "Hello."

____________________________

A good half hour later, Enjolras has made his apologies to Temeraire and can be found in the café, with his new friend curled up on his discarded coat on a chair nearby him. Enjolras is absently stroking her from time to time, engrossed in a book he at last found under his papers.

Comments

[futaille]

Grantaire squeezes Enjolras's hand and huffs out a soft breathless laugh. "Perhaps one day I'll not feel as if I'm floating, but it's not today."

[untamedantinous]

"Well -- ah. You're welcome? This is truly not what I intended to spend my morning doing."

[futaille]

"What was your intent?"

[untamedantinous]

"I was going to get the young lady here properly settled, though she does seem to prefer using my clothing as a bed for now. Would you like to help?"

[futaille]

"I will help in whatever way you'd like, dear Lucien."

[untamedantinous]

"Well. Let's go try and find her a bed, perhaps. And a proper collar."

[futaille]

A grin. "I don't know. Clearly she's already found a bed she likes."

[untamedantinous]

"Yes, but I do not know how comfortable it is."

[futaille]

"I would not be surprised if we found a most well-appointed bed and she continued to sleep on your clothing. But let us try."

[untamedantinous]

"That does sound like a cat, yes." He rises from his chair and Charlotte follows, hopping down from her own and twining around Enjolras' legs. "Let's go, then."

[futaille]

Grantaire stands as well. "I certainly cannot fault the young mademoiselle's taste in people."

[untamedantinous]

"Well. She does seem to approve of you, which is good news."

[futaille]

A laugh. "Ah, true. I mostly cannot fault her taste in people, then."

[untamedantinous]

"She shares mine." He raises an eyebrow, teasingly. "Do you find fault with mine, then?"

[futaille]

"Any fault I could find is one I would be entirely grateful for, I assure you."

[untamedantinous]

"Mm. Very well." He leans to give Grantaire a brief kiss, grinning.

[futaille]

He kisses back, quite besotted, and smiles. "Right. Where do we look first?"

[untamedantinous]

"I suppose the first order of business should be finding the nearest cupboard or closet that might hold things. Perhaps next door?"

[futaille]

"Lead the way."

[untamedantinous]

He does, then, with Charlotte trailing behind and rubbing up against Grantaire and Enjolras' legs as they walk.

[futaille]

Grantaire can hardly be blamed if he stoops down and gives Charlotte scratches whenever she attends to his legs.

[untamedantinous]

Charlotte approves of this one. Not as much as she approves of Enjolras, but it's close. Enjolras promptly dives into the nearest closet and emerges with -- an armful of things. A cat bed, a blue collar, and various toys, to start off with.

[futaille]

"I'm surprised the collar ended with only one color and not three," he says immediately, only barely not laughing. "Would you like me to hold any of that?"

[untamedantinous]

"Yes, please." He offers whatever Grantaire is willing to take, as it is kind of hard to get back into the closet with Charlotte in between his legs. On his next venture, he emerges with various tins of cat food and some bowls, along with a few more toys that look like they might be fun for a cat to kick. "I see. She is to be quite spoiled, if this house shall have its way."

[futaille]

He smothers a grin. "Yes, blame the house entirely."